Principal Jebroham, walking through the hallway leading to his office, caught a glimpse of dawn through a tall glass window.
Today was the first ti in history that the Inter-Class Representative Competition would happen in the Myriad Sword Realm.
There were many preparations to be done.
Yet, he was able to sohow finish his tasks early yesterday, securing a bit of ti for himself.
He woke up well-rested, too. Today was strangely serene.
’What a peaceful start to the day,’ the old principal mused. A chirping Chestnut Munia even flew by the next window he passed.
Soon, he reached his office, tapping his identity card at the scanner of the electric access control lock.
The door beeped open, and he entered.
The first thing Jebroham did whenever he arrived at his office was check the phones locked securely in his drawer.
The first two, surprisingly, only had ten ssages combined.
There weren’t any urgent matters, either. It seed that his secretary had truly handled things well.
He then checked the third one by protocol. Jebroham’s eyes widened at the two missed calls and a ssage from none other than Hailey Krauss.
"Call as soon as possible," was the content of the text ssage.
Suddenly, his peaceful morning wasn’t so peaceful anymore.
What a blunder!
The esteed division leader called exactly five minutes after he left...which was still under his shift hours as the Southern Bladeborn Academy’s Principal.
How was he so unlucky as to miss an important call on the only day he decided to pamper his old self?!
’Curses!’
He called back, but Hailey didn’t answer the first ti. Fortunately, she picked the call up the second ti around.
"M-Milady, this is Jebroham Jackson. Please forgive this old fool for clocking out early yesterday and missing an important call."
"Ah, it’s alright, Principal Jackson. I already solved the minor issue yesterday. You may disregard my ssage. In fact, allow to apologize for not informing you. You must’ve felt quite awful."
"Ah, not at all! It’s an honor to be of service to milady."
Hailey chuckled inwardly, finding the old head’s nervousness around her quite adorable.
"Well, I’m in a eting, so I’ll be hanging up. I trust you can handle the small ripples of the changes I’ve made."
"Leave it to , Division Leader Krauss!"
Jebroham didn’t know what the change was, but he was sure that it would reach him sooner or later.
It most likely had sothing to do with the Inter-Class Representative Competition.
***
**
In a mystical realm, the majestic sun slowly rose.
It stopped beneath a crown-like spire for a dozen monts, seemingly donning its regalia before assuming its heavenly throne and gracing the world with warm, golden light.
The dawn was fresh. Yet, Crownspire was already bustling with activity.
The professional scouts from the guilds rose early to secure a great seat in the arena, willingly paying a good premium to Ashen Crown’s Seat Dealer.
So of the less experienced ones even slept on the streets of the rookie city, resting their bodies against the walls of the arena.
They, too, were able to secure good seats, albeit with significantly more effort than the more experienced scouts.
There were also quite a few overenthusiastic individuals who woke early to et their buddies, dining in restaurants to discuss the competitors further.
They were about to put their money where their mouths are, after all — placing a bet in the betting stations.
Naturally, the favorite was the Sky Prince. The problem was that the payout was way too small.
This was why people contemplated whether to bet on the S-rankers instead.
There was also the choice of betting only on who will make it to the quarterfinals, the semis, and the finals.
In any case, the rules of betting remained the sa at their core: the more likely it was for a participant to proceed deeper into the competition, the lower the payouts.
The official betting stations had naturally done their research.
So, if the bettors wanted to make so moolah, they must take risks. The A-rankers are the perfect field for this, as there are quite a number of them in Noravia’s Southern Bladeborn Academy.
To make things better, all except a few had a fair chance of making it to the quarterfinals.
A good day for the A-ranker they put their money on, and their Swordcoin reserves would burst.
The higher the sun rose, the livelier the streets of Crownspire beca, and before long, there was a long queue at the Crownspire Arena.
Turning the Inter-Class Representative Competition from a private, intra-academy one to a full-blown event was a stroke of simple genius from the Novice Affairs Departnt Head.
While bringing all the competitors to Crownspire safely brought its own share of challenges, and the fee paid by the governnt to Ashen Crown for the venue was a risk, the event was a huge success in the end.
Many Bladeborns joined the bustle.
Only, it was quite the irkso thought for those working for the governnt that the apex sword guild was earning quite generously, despite literally doing nothing except managing the seat sales and lending the arena to them for two days.
If only the governnt hadn’t been so "impartial" as to treat itself unfairly in the past...
Crownspire could’ve been theirs.
anwhile, at the back entrance, two youngsters arrived, noticing the long line.
There were 256 classes, after all, which ant there were also 256 representatives.
Each representative’s identity had to be confird first, thus the waiting ti.
Strangely, Daru wasn’t too displeased and simply queued at the back of the line.
"Well then, I’ll be at the stands cheering, Daru." Caleb casually waved him goodbye and left, leaving Daru — wearing the Oni Mask but using only the [I Go By Many Nas] ability and donning the trial na of the F-ranker, "Omaru" — by himself.
Those queued near him easily noticed the new arrival.
Naturally, since everyone was aiming to impress the scouts present, especially the B-rankers who represented their classes, they instinctively turned to look, sizing the newcor up.
Their eyes widened as they recognized who the Bladeborn was.
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